Demons in Hiding
by merick
Summary: An entry for the Dead after Dead Reckoning Contest, what happens to Diantha as she hides from the beings that are pursuing her and her Uncle.


Dead After Dead Reckoning Contest Title: Demons in Hiding

Characters: Diantha and Bill Compton

Word Count:4100

Pen Name: Merick

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Charlene Harris, and I am just taking them out to play

Summary: What does Diantha have to deal with as she hides from the things pursuing her and her Uncle. And how does she get drawn into the fight by an unlikely source? My thoughts about who the bad guys really are.

Demons in Hiding

I hate feeling like this, bored, annoyed, alone. I am getting to the point where I may start pulling the wings off of house flies, it isn't as if they are hard to catch. I haven't heard from my Uncle in weeks, I know he is on the run too, but dumping me here with the vague instructions to keep out of harm's way, and at the ready are out of character and out of my comfort zone. My Uncle's idea of safety doesn't exactly match my own, but it's hard to fault his logic. His wholly defensible position has translated into an ancient-looking farmhouse with absolutely nothing around for miles but unworked fields, and a barn in much the same state of repair, if not actually worse. It wouldn't matter from which direction an enemy might approach; I would be able to see them for miles, even if they moved at preternatural speeds as they likely would. I took up station on the roof of the house, or for a change, on the roof of the barn, concealed in what the humans called a gilly suit. A ridiculous name considering there were no gills on it that I could see, but I could not criticize its effectiveness in camouflage. I blended in quite well with the aging shingles. That was during the day, at night I walked, like a caged tiger around the buildings, begging to absolutely no one for an end to my suffering. At least I had been permitted to keep my weapons, but the novelty of trimming overgrown grass has quickly lost its excitement, as had hacking away pieces of barn board.

My Uncle wanted me alive, but in truth he was slowly killing me by not letting me meet my pursuers head on. At times like this, while I loved him, I wanted to shake him. How dare you! I would have screamed. But he would just tell me that I had to live, for my father, for my sister and for the greater fights to come.

What were we fighting? Or rather, what was trying to destroy us? Grey, foul, pointed toothed Elves. They work for one of the fairies; we haven't sorted out which one, someone who has set them to work destroying the allies of Niall Brigand, the rightful Fairy King. Someone wants those portals opened up again, and they are intent on pulling Niall himself out of Fairy to confront him and possibly kill him. My Uncle is a friend of Niall's, mostly through one of his sons, Fintan. Guilt by association for me I guess, but whoever they are they know that my Uncle and I will side with Niall in any fight, and so will a good number of Vampires and Weres I have been given to believe. If they pick us off one at a time we are certainly less of a threat. And so here I sit, waiting for someone to try and pick me off, just so I'll have something to do besides looking out over these fields, watching the mice.

Knowing all this I am sure you'll understand how excited I was, when one night, well after midnight I finally spotted something bigger than a rodent hurrying across my fields. I had taken to calling them that, just another way to distract myself I guess. I unsheathed my swords and leapt down from my vantage point of the barn, once I had determined that there was only one interloper, and confronted him at the point of two very sharp blades, to his credit, and my chagrin, he stopped his approach well shy of my being able to skewer him and held up both hands to me, as if to show me that he was unarmed. Halt, who goes there? Sounded really dumb, but nothing else appropriately majestic and awe-inspiring came to mind.

"Stop!" Came out first, and seeing as he'd already done that I felt quite foolish. Holding the swords out as I stepped towards him helped with my pride a bit.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Bill Compton, your Uncle sent me."

"Why do I know that name?"

"I'm a friend of Sookie Stackhouse."

Yup, I remembered Bill now, Vampire, less than reputable if the gossip was to be believed, denizen of Area Five. I seem to recall that he was well known for assembling some kind of Vampire phone book, tracking down all those that could be tracked down and committing them to spreadsheets and files, all for sale. You ask me it sounded draconian, but I guess that was okay for Vampires. I know you sure as hell wouldn't have been able to put together a directory of Demons, semi or otherwise, not if you valued your existence that was.

"Why would my Uncle send you here?"

"If you would permit?" He started to pull off his backpack and set it on the ground just in front of himself. "He wanted me to bring you provisions. Energy bars, protein shakes, things like that." I took a step forward as he took one backwards.

"Why do you smell like chicken?"

"I thought perhaps you'd prefer some real food?" He offered, taking another step backwards. "There was a KFC along my route."

I gestured at him with the tip of the blades, meaning he was to back up further, and he did. I swept in, sheathing one sword and grabbed up the backpack. It was filled with the things my Uncle had sent, unimaginative if not functional, again. But right at the top of the pile was a white and red box, its sides already getting a bit translucent from the grease. Fried Chicken. Sweet Jesus. (What a demon can't use that expression?) I pulled out a drumstick and devoured it, cracking the bones a bit in my zeal. Cooked bones don't tend to have decent marrow, but they were permeated with the exceptional oil and however many spices the Colonel is purported to use.

"Thanks." I mumbled as I broke off part of a biscuit and jammed that in my mouth as well.

"You're welcome."

"Why you?"

"Pardon me?"

"Why did my Uncle pick you of all people to come out here?"

Bear in mind of course that we are still about ten feet apart having this conversation, me eating chicken, holding one sword on him, he just looking at me with raised eyebrows as if I was some kind of lunatic. Maybe I am. Who knows?

"I would like to say that I was the best person for the job but in truth I am likely the most expendable."

That sounded like my Uncle. I took another huge bite of chicken; I never really worried about looking lady-like. I could leave that to Sookie, that seemed to be one of her things. I was freaking hungry.

"There's a coke in there too, it's probably still cold." He offered. I scrounged. I succeeded.

"You are a freakin' god Bill Compton, I don't care what anyone else says about you." I popped the top and downed it, loving that carbonated burn. I watched his eyebrows knit together as he looked at me.

"What do other people say about me?'

Shit.

There's no point in mumbling 'nothing', besides, I don't lie, mostly, at least not when there isn't any advantage for me. And Bill's a big boy, not like he doesn't already know, even if he won't admit it to himself.

"Well Bill," I began, "you've made impressions on some people. Not always good ones."

His head bowed. "I had hoped many of those things would have been behind me by now."

"I guess some people have long memories?" I screwed up my smile, knowing I'd touched on a sore spot without meaning to. I might be a semi-demon, but I'm not cruel, unless I have to be. I sheathed my second sword. "Any rate, you've done well by me. Do you have to leave right away, maybe you could stay and talk for a bit?" I was desperate for company, even from a Vampire; that should say something about my state of mind.

"I don't have anywhere else to be for the foreseeable future."

"Good, come on back to the house, you can tell me what I missed."

It was apparently satisfactory as an invitation as Bill was able to follow me through the front door, though I don't know if the farmhouse even counted in the 'can't enter without an invitation' rule since I didn't own the place. I put the pack down on the peeling linoleum countertop, not like there was a fridge to stick anything in, and put the chicken down on the likewise peeling kitchen table. I motioned for Bill to take the only other chair; I'd tested both, they'd hold weight, and he sat, and watched me eat. I prodded him with questions between the fries and chicken.

"You've seen my Uncle then? How was he looking?"

"He looks tired, which is understandable. He continues to try to run his business and attend to his clients while still avoiding the elves that are pursuing him."

"Good thing the elves aren't too bright." I added, (seriously, how hard could it have been, they could have staked out his clients and just ambushed him, but they hadn't). Of course, my Uncle was very crafty. Bill sort of wrinkled his brow at the statement; he probably thought I was being cavalier. Maybe I was. Maybe I was just confident.

"It's never really a good idea to underestimate your opponents." He told me. I'd moved on.

"What else has been happening?"

"Victor, Felipe's agent in Louisiana has been killed."

"Well no love lost there, he was a real bastard."

"Well I cannot comment on his parentage, but you would be hard pressed to find someone who misses him, except perhaps Felipe, but I haven't asked him myself, and in my few dealings with him I have found him to be mostly a pragmatist. I imagine he will appoint a new overseer?"

"Not a regent?" My knowledge of Vampire politics was limited, but I had been given to understand that Victor had been seeking that title and the perceived power that came with it.

"I cannot say, but I don't think Felipe wants to deal with someone on his own level, even if it is as appointed by him. I have a strange feeling that Felipe has greater designs than we are being led to believe."

"Like what?" The chicken was done and I was slowly eating the fries, lapping up the news and just the sound of another voice.

"Having the whole of the United States as his kingdom would certainly please him."

"You think he has that kind of power?"

"I think he has that kind of patience."

"Who killed Victor?"

"I couldn't say."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" I countered.

"Couldn't." And he smiled at me. The grin said that he knew more than he was ever going to let on to me. I was sure my Uncle had the truth anyways. Not much happened in the supernatural community that he didn't know about, least ways concerning Vampires and Weres.

"How long have you been here on your own Diantha?" He asked me.

"Just over three weeks." I replied.

"That is a very long time to be alone."

"It is." I stuck the last little cluster of fries into my mouth and swallowed them.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the food." He half smiled looking over the empty box and coke can; I was licking the grease off my fingers.

"It was very thoughtful of you Bill. I mean, like you I only really need the protein to survive," I gestured over the backpack, still laden with protein bars and shakes. "But you really do crave something more substantial now and then."

He nodded, "I certainly do understand. Taking a meal has always been an important part of human ritual. I am glad that I was able to make you happy for at least a little while in your exile." He smiled again; he seemed to be doing a great deal of that for a Vampire I noted, as they were not generally known for their outbursts of emotions. (Well except maybe the ones connected to lust.) "What have you been doing to pass your time here?"

"Not a hell of a lot I'm afraid. Watching, waiting, mowing the lawn?" I offered with my own giggle, I was actually feeling a little giddy all of a sudden, probably the yummy grease and caffeine. "This place is just about as boring as it gets."

"A person like yourself must be itching to get into the fight I imagine? I know I would be."

"Oh yes, I mean, I understand what my Uncle is doing, but I have lived a long time, and survived a great many things, I would prefer to be on the front lines."

"Perhaps there is a greater purpose for you to fulfill?"

"Well Bill," I sighed deeply, "I sincerely doubt that. I'm a Demon, we don't have 'great purpose' we aren't part of prophecies, we live we die; somewhere along the way we kill. I'm good with that."

"You are a most interesting creature." He remarked.

"Well I'll take that as a complement."

"Please do, it is how it was meant." He rose from the table and walked slowly around to my side. Now suddenly, without the chicken smell to mask it I could definitely smell Fairy for some reason. I was not beyond asking about it.

"You've been near Fairies recently haven't you?"

"I have." It might have been my imagination but his voice seemed a little deeper all of a sudden.

"Which ones?" I turned my head so I could look him in the eyes again.

"Sookie, and her Uncle Dermot." He said. He was staring at me like he was hungry or something. Which was odd, Demon blood wasn't altogether palatable for Vampires. "Your Uncle asked me to meet him there, he sees Sookie regularly." I knew that to be the truth, my Uncle had a real interest in Sookie Stackhouse, mostly because she was a grandchild of a dear friend of his, and a princess of Fairy not that she aspired to the title or rights. She was only a quarter Fairy, and herself was a target because of it, not being pureblood, and as a relative of Niall Brigand. "That was where he gave me my instructions to find you."

"It must have been very difficult to be around the Fairy while still keeping control of yourself?" I offered, mostly in sympathy.

"Very." He answered, but I didn't get the impression he was really talking about Dermot. When he let his hands light on my shoulders I jumped. "But I have practiced exquisite control over the decades."

"Do tell?" His fingers ran over my tops of my arms lightly as he stood behind me at the table.

"Have you been very lonely these last three weeks?" I was most certainly not imagining the seductive tone in his voice with that question. I made to rise from my chair and turned to face him as I did so, he let me spin in his grasp effortlessly as if we were dancing.

"It has been unpleasant." I admitted, wondering just what Bill Compton had in mind for me. It was true I am a social person, and one given to letting her mind wander if not constructively occupied. I had not been constructively occupied for quite a while, and my mind had certainly wandered.

"Perhaps I can take your mind off of your troubles for awhile then?" He brushed his fingers through my hair, combing it down flat and tucking it behind my ear. I could feel my heart beginning to beat a little faster, I wasn't sure if it was just adrenaline, or actual arousal.

"What did you have in mind Bill?" I looked into his eyes, I was just a little taller than him, but in his boots we were nearly even. They seemed to sparkle just a bit, perhaps with his own arousal. I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his hands light on my waist pulling me into his body. From that close contact I didn't need to wonder about arousal anymore, his was quite obvious, pressed into my hip.

"I can be a very tender lover." He whispered to me as he brought his mouth down to nip at my ear. I shuddered just a bit at the feel of it, half expecting the fangs. They did not drop.

"Really?" I breathed back; happy to indulge him in playing the game he had chosen.

"Really." And with that he pressed his mouth down over mine, parting my lips with an exceptionally driven tongue, and he tasted me as I tasted him. He was sweet. It actually put me in the mind of something else as my tongue tangled with his, something that brought a broad smile to my face, but perhaps not for the reason you might first imagine. "Have you a bedroom here?" He asked me when I let him go.

"An old fashioned man, I like that. Yes, the room at the top of the stairs." It was true, I had made myself a nest of sorts up there, mostly because it was a corner room and offered two sets of windows for watch and egress, and access to the attic as well. I didn't sleep much, but I needed some. My sleeping bag was there, and my clothing, and the few other items I had brought with myself for comfort. "Why don't you give me two minutes and then come up?" I said in the most seductive voice a semi-demon could muster. I could feel my excitement growing.

"Of course." He let me go from his arms with a bit of a flourish, bowing just slightly. I could hardly keep myself from giggling when I watched it, I felt like a schoolgirl again, or the demon equivalent of such age-inspired giddiness. I bounded up the stairs, two at a time and made myself ready.

"Come on up Bill, I have a surprise for you." I called. I heard his footfall on the stairs, slow and measured, I don't know what he expected to find when he reached the landing, but I imagine it wasn't anywhere close to what he did find.

My iron dagger, thrown from the bedroom doorway, landed in his gut, just under his ribs. The look in his eyes was absolutely priceless, and would have been worth a fist pump had there been anyone around who would have seen it.

"Why?" He gasped out as he dropped to his knees not able to touch the handle as it was also made of iron.

"Vampires don't taste sweet you idiot, not like a fairy does, and unless you've been frenching Dermot, you aren't Bill Compton." I laughed at him as he struggled to maintain the form he had chosen, it only lasted a few more seconds as the iron stole away his powers and his life.

His pale white skin began to take on a grey sheen, and the pair of fangs that should have dropped from his upper dentition gave way to the ugly mouthful of sharpened teeth. The once almost pleasing face contorted and reverted until there was an ugly specimen of an elf lying mostly prostrate on the upper landing of the farmhouse.

"Bitch!" He snarled at me. "We will destroy you all!"

"Well you won't." I kicked him in the gut, close to the where the knife blade still sat. His skin and muscles began to cave in and his body began to smoke.

Unlike Fairies, who sort of wink out of existence into nothingness Elves decompose a little differently, perhaps it is the measure of evil in their souls? They produce a grey, greasy kind of haze, the sort of stuff I imagine burning a pig or a whale might produce; not to cast dispersion on those creatures. Their bodies sort of collapse in on themselves before they kind of melt away, leaving a foul slick on the floor as the only evidence of their presence. Even that fades away after a few hours I am told, so minimal mess, minimal fuss, but I left the knife in him just in case. Rooting through his now empty clothing I found a cellular phone. I crossed my fingers that I would get a bar or two when I flipped it on, and I did. I dialed the first in a series of numbers.

"Hello?" The happy little blond voice sounded just as I remembered it.

"Sookie?"

"Yes, who's this?"

"It's Diantha. Sookie honey are you at home now?"

"No, I'm at Fangtasia." Thank the heavens for that. "Honey, something has happened, is Eric there with you?"

"Yes?" She was sounding puzzled, I didn't blame her, but I wasn't about to spill all the beans to her, she wasn't high enough up the proverbial food chain just yet.

"I need you stay there okay, my Uncle will be calling you soon, but whatever you do, don't go home or even leave the Vampire's arms until he does alright?"

I elicited the promise from her knowing full well that a Fairy would never dare go near a Vampire bar, certainly not one owned by the Sheriff of the area, and as old as Eric Northman, they wouldn't survive to draw a second breath. I also knew that whether they shifted their appearance or not, an Elf would be caught out by the same heightened senses of the Vampires. Sookie was safest right where she was; you see, I had to make certain of that before I made my next call. Her house.

"Hello?" It was just the person I expected would answer, the one who had sent the Elf after me, the one who was the architect of the whole renewed Fairy war.

"Good evening Dermot." I put as much menace into my voice as I could muster, tempered with just a bit of superior humor. It isn't hard for a Demon to find that tone of voice.

"Who is this?"

"Your little Elf is dead." I toed the blackened remains and finally retrieved my dagger, wiping it on the remnants of his jeans.

"Who is this?" He demanded again, sounded just a little more rattled than the first time.

"An interesting disguise you gave him, making him look like Bill Compton." There was a pause, then real indignation through the phone.

"What have you done to Mordechai?"

"He's been, dispatched, shall we say?"

"You bitch!" He actually seemed upset; surprising me really, a general should be able to accept his losses with a bit more dignity. But of course, the Elf had been awfully close to him before he'd come out to find me, but I didn't dwell on that imagery.

"You've made a very terrible mistake." I told him. "Because now I know who you are, and you have drawn me into the fight. And I will kill you."

"If you try anything I'll kill Sookie, she's right upstairs."

Pitiful.

"No she isn't, I just spoke with her, she's with Eric, and she's staying there, so good luck getting to her." He stammered a bit, I don't imagine he liked being caught in such an important lie. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you Dermot. I know a little about your customs. I'm going to give you a head start to run. Then I'm going to hunt you down. The next call I make is to my Uncle, then I start coming for you. He'll likely make a few calls of his own; so I guess you have at most a half an hour before all mighty hell descends on Bon Temps. Off you go."

I shut off the phone and dialed my Uncle last, I said four words to him, 'it's Dermot, I'm coming' and then I was. It felt so good to run again, it felt so good to have a purpose again.

So you might ask, why did I give Dermot a head start? Why didn't I just head straight out to Bon Temps and take off his head there? Sport I guess, after three weeks of cutting grass and barn board I wanted the hunt. Plus, it really is the honorable thing to do after all.

You might also ask why the Elf didn't just poison the food he brought me, and be done with me quickly? Well, for starters, most poisons don't work so well on Demons, we're really hard to kill, and, well, Elves are just stupid.


End file.
